


Worm Tamer

by MrWednesday



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Knotting, M/M, Minor Character Death, Succubi & Incubi, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-08
Updated: 2016-03-08
Packaged: 2018-05-25 10:01:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6190531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrWednesday/pseuds/MrWednesday
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ren has set his sights on the dashing and capable Major Hux.  He doesn't much care how Hux feels about that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Worm Tamer

**Author's Note:**

> Please head the tags, Hux is not having a good time.

Major Hux and his platoon had been plantside for a 10 days, pinned down by a Resistance ambush, before the Dauntless appeared in orbit to rain fire from the sky. Back in space and surrounded by the sterility of the impeccably kept Star Destroyer, Hux is distracted by the reek of his own clothes. Every movement betrays their stiffness, crusted as they are with sweat, blood, and the filth of the planet below. They’ll be for the furnace when he’s finished here.

There’s a bank of monitors playing back footage from his troopers’ helmet cams. 10 different angles of a red-haired young officer, clipping off enemy combatants from his snipers nest. Hux turns his back on himself, and faces his CO. Behind the command staff, at the edge of the light, the Knight is lurking again.

The spectre that has dogged his steps since he came aboard The Dauntless 2 years prior. Ren has haunted him, a long shadow lingering in the edge of his vision, watching, but never making contact. He’s closer than usual today, his malevolent presence stronger, and Hux doesn’t let his eyes rest on him for more than a second. Hux is commended for his exceptional performance and valor. They remark on the deftness with which he took over command when Colonel So-Zera fell on the second day. There is no mention of the rumor already circulating that he was brought down by friendly fire. Hux is to be promoted. There are handshakes all around, and salutes. Ren remains silent. The battle footage plays on behind him.

The officers file out, but Ren remains, standing between Hux and the door. Unsure of how to proceed, Hux nods in acknowledgement and moves to step around him, but Ren is coming closer, raising his hands to grip the sides of his helmet. There’s a moment where Hux has to remind himself to breathe, and the hiss of the releasing mechanism rings in the silence. Ren dofs his helmet and tucks it beneath one arm, gazing down at him with drowsy doe eyes. He’s shockingly young, his large pale face odd but unblemished. Ren leans close, sniffing deeply. His eyes roll back in his head, his lids flickering. “It will be you.”

Hux has been warned about the Knights, told that they are of a separate kind, to work around them as best he can and leave them to their business. He doesn’t know what this is. “I’m afraid I don’t catch your meaning, My Lord,” he says, polite as he can.

Ren turns, intent on the monitors. Hux follows his gaze, watches himself dispatch a Resistance fighter that had managed to climb up to his perch undetected. The broad knife that had a second before been strapped to his thigh nearly beheads the climber, their mouth gaping in a silent scream as they tumble from the minaret. Hux looks away. Ren’s hair has fallen forward, badly masking the face he’s making, his upper lip snarled back, like he’s tasting Hux in the air. Flehmening at him like a fucking riverhorse. It’s grotesque. Subhuman. Hux jerks back in revulsion, then keeps going, only fairly certain that Ren won’t follow.

\------------------------

When he emerges from the fresher that evening, the remains of his uniform are gone. His belt and com are where he left them, tucked in his boots, but there’s no sign of his field suit save for a streak of brown blood from where it had made contact with the bedspread. He clenches his fists, releases them. He refuses to be provoked.

\------------------------

Hux hasn’t had a dream like this since his academy days - the sweet throb of arousal, the phantom sensation of something tight and wet, pulsing over him. For a time he’s content to drift in the vague haze of uncomplicated pleasure. He shifts his legs, seeking to plant his feet to rock into it, but they won’t move. There’s a weight there, holding him down. He frowns, starts to struggle, but the heat follows him. Something’s wrong. He tries to look down at what’s lapping at him, the cloud of sleep receding rapidly as panic wells in the front of his mind.

Ren is crouched over him, a grotesque in the half-light gorging himself on Hux’s cock, expression lost in rapturous ecstasy. Hux shouts in alarm and Ren’s eyes snap open, but he doesn’t slow. His only response is the click of an untrained throat forcing itself over flesh.

“You horrendous little creep!” Hux hauls Ren off by his hair and tries to shove him from the bed, but has no leverage. Ren pulls off and climbs up the bed, dragging their bodies together, propping himself up on arms thickly corded with muscle. Hux unwittingly pictures himself a carcass, trapped under the rending claws of a bloody-mouthed forest creature. He scrambles back, drawing his legs up to his chest to protect his soft underbelly . Ren’s plump mouth is sloppy with spit and precum, but he makes no move to wipe it away. A blush stains his face, down over his broad chest.

“Get out.” Hux applauds himself on keeping his voice even.

“Major. We’ll speak again soon.”

Ren disappears in a whirl of robes, a hideous apparition banished back into the night.

Hux sits up in bed trying to settle his pulse for a long time, wide eyes gazing sightlessly into the dark. He considers pushing his desk across the floor to barricade the door, but dismisses the thought. It wouldn’t do to show fear, barricading himself in like a rabbit in a bolthole.

He knows if Ren wanted to come back it wouldn’t matter at all.

Wouldn’t even slow him down.

\------------------------

This cannot carry on. His skin feels taut, prickling. He’s jumpy, hyperaware of distant footfalls, every shift in the light. It’s unbecoming in an officer of his rank.

Hux finds Ren training in the gym on Sector 8, dressed lightly for exercise. He has a trooper attending to him, setting up targets, gathering the resultant debris when Ren inevitably decimates them beyond further use. Ren looks up when he enters. He pauses his routine and waits for Hux to approach. The trooper looks nervous, but Ren gestures at him to stay where he is. Ren looks pleased to see him. Hux had expected… some fear of violent reprisal, perhaps, here in the light of day, or a tormentor smirking at his quarry. He’d had a few lectures planned, depending. Threats, or more official reprimands. He can’t seem to bring them to mind. Hux doesn’t speak until they’re nearly chest to chest. “What do you _want_ from me you perverse monster child?” he demands.

“You know.” Ren hisses, “And you’ll give it to me.” There’s something dizzying about being this close, something heavy about the air. Hux is under the distinct impression he’s being smelled again. Ren stands with his hands behind his back, rocking on his heels. He hums deep in his throat. Hux realizes with a start that he’s touching himself, pressing long fingers up between his legs. It’s behavior so appalling he can barely process it. “You _filthy_ -”

When Ren pulls out his hand it’s glistening with thick slick. He stares at Hux as he slowly wipes it clean on the trooper’s black shirt, each pass of his hand leaving a shiny trail. The smell of him blooms in the air, fecund and rich, mingling with the musky notes of a competitor’s arousal. The trooper is clearly terrified, trembling in place, his training sweats distended with a burgeoning erection. The stink of them together, Hux can’t abide it; his blood thrums with the need to rend this interloper apart. He clenches his fists, gouging his palms with his nails until blood trickles over his knuckles, tries to take shallow breaths, but it’s for naught - the trooper breaks first. He’s crying, nose flared with shuddering huffs, even as he launches himself at his superior.

The trooper is vicious, but dazed. This will have been his first time subjected to such a rush of pheramones, whatever glamour it is the Knight casts, this golden sticky glaze that’s coating the world’s edges, and brute instinct isn’t enough to finish this with Hux now that he’s started it. It’s over quickly.

When the world clears a little, Hux is on his hands and knees over Ren, panting in his face. The trooper’s skull, caved in against the weight bench, bleeds copiously across the mat. The ends of Ren’s hair are floating in gore. Crouched over him, Hux punches the mat beside his head, once, twice, giving in to a roar of frustration. The impact of his fist sends blood misting up his uniform. Dragging himself to his feet feels like emerging from quicksand. Ren’s eyes are pits of black, unblinking. “I’m not doing this with you,” Hux spits. Retreating is easier, the further away he gets.

Ren stays on the mat, breathing deep and steady. His face creases in a teasing smile, horrific in its innocence, like this is a game of forgone conclusion. “We’ll see.”

\-----------------------------

In the small hours of the morning, Hux wakes suddenly, peering up at an unfamiliar ceiling. His pulse is frantic, and he wonders for half a second if he’s in medbay, if he didn’t actually come back from his last mission intact, if they’ve had to restart his heart with epinephrine - the tender skin inside his right elbow is stinging. He looks down. There’s blood there, fresh bitemarks welling over an blaster old scar. His breath speeds up impossibly. It feels like his heart is going to explode. His cock is throbbing - Hux knows without looking that he’s hard, and it feels like his pants are gone, leaving him in only an undershirt.

The room reeks of Ren.

There’s a green cloth beside his head, the only spot of color - his missing shirt, he realizes, tucked between Ren’s pillows. There’s a line of heat along his left side, a faint rustling sound. Hux stops breathing. For a long moment he resists turning. There’s no doubt of what awaits him.

Ren is entirely naked, and startling large this close. His dark eyes shine against his flushed skin, riveted on Hux’s face. He’s twisting slightly in place, rolling his hips, winding himself up. There’s no telling how long he’s lain there, watching, waiting for Hux to come awake here in his den. Hux opens his mouth to scream, to berate, but there’s nothing, he can’t think over the rush of blood in his ears.

Ren makes no move for him when Hux rolls off the bed, doesn’t pull him into place like Hux knows he could. Ren could pin him to the bed and do what he liked, but he takes an unmasked glee in letting Hux’s biology do half the work for him. Every attempt to leave the bed sees him buffeted back by invisible gusts of pressure, but in the end he’s his own ruin. The surge of his heartbeat is pounding in his temple. Saliva wells under his tongue but he can’t coordinate enough to swallow, it feels like he’s drowning, even as he crawls over the long body undulating on the bed.

Ren writhes on the dark sheets, crooning with each exhale, high on the cocktail of their scents in the air, or the power he now wields. His back arches in a deep lordosis, pressing up the swell of his pale backside. The sight of it itches at Hux’s brain. He can’t look away from the tender pink gape of him. His arms tremble, and he drops down to his elbows, cringing in misery, when they can’t support him any longer. The smell is stronger here, mouthing over the sweaty crease of Ren’s neck. The vibration of his growls are echoing in Hux’s own chest. His thoughts tick over slowly, syrupy and hot now that he’s scratching at that primitive need for Ren to be trapped beneath him. The tip of his cock is nuzzling Ren’s slit. Beyond thought, he grips Ren’s hip in place, gouges in _deep_. Ren spasms, _wringing_ him as more wetness splashes down his thighs. He’s more certain than ever he’s the first one inside the boy.

Time falls away and he is consumed, prey to Ren’s hungry body, the greedy hollow inside him. He senses vaguely that he is licking and biting over the skin under his mouth, tasting salt. This will be the end of him. The Supreme Leader will have him killed for it, if Ren doesn’t kill him first.

He manages to get a palm on the bed, and knee, and forces himself up, shaking with the agony of abandoning Ren’s hot insides. He stumbles back off the bed, but doesn’t get far.

Ren has rolled onto his back, livid, his teeth bared. His eyes are glazed. The air shakes with barely contained power. He drags Hux between his legs, first with the Force, then a pale-knuckled fist in his shirt. His skull cracks against Hux’s orbital bone and Hux staggers, blinded with pain, only Ren’s grip keeping him on his feet. His cheek is probably split, it burns terribly and something wet is rolling off his jaw and down his neck. Close-combat training flees his mind, and he thrashes artlessly like a buck in a snare. A broad palm strokes up his cheek, smearing slick across his face, under his nose, it’s in his _mouth_ , he’s being pulled back _in-_

Ren is gushing over his cock, as if the violent interlude has only stoked his ardour. With a wet swivel, the sore swelling at the base finds purchase, lost in the desperate clutch of the body beneath him. He jerks his hips back frantically, too late, his knot caught fast. Ren wraps his legs around his back and draws him flush, squeezing and _squeezing_ him inside, milking him for all he has. Long fingers card through his hair, scratch over his shoulders. Ren purrs against his neck, content and possessive. He touches his lips to the corner of Hux’s mouth, breathes “You know I can take whatever I want.” Hux gasps as his hips flex helplessly, burrowing deeper. Ren groans throatily at the second rush of cum, kicking his legs a little in delight. “We’ll take it together.”

**Author's Note:**

> Started out as an exploration of the entitled covetous side of Kylo we see in his interrogation scenes, and you'll note some deliberately lifted dialogue. Clearly things snowballed from there. The title is, of course, a reference to the Grinderman song of the same name.


End file.
